Friendly Advice
Oliver took a steadying breath, trying to brace himself for the frenzy. He hadn’t expected the courtroom to shake him up as much as it had. Seeing Laurel immediately after hadn’t helped much either, and Oliver was still trying to numb the sting of the well-deserved rejection.
Tommy was patting his shoulder comfortingly and leading him towards the door but Oliver felt as if he were moving through water. Everything seemed slower and disoriented until he suddenly spotted a pair of familiar green eyes.
"Barry!" Oliver called out, not caring that the relief was tangible in his voice. The sight of the now slightly familiar scientist was like a breath of air while Oliver was trying not to drown, and he was going to cling to this lifeline he had been tossed. The young man looked around, startled, his eyes widening in surprise when they finally rested on Oliver. Behind him Tommy let out a strange noise that Oliver took to be one of shock. Brushing off his friend and moving past his bodyguard, Oliver ignored their protests and made his way toward Barry with a determined air. As he drew closer Barry's eyes just seemed to widen until they were the size of saucers.
"Uh, hey Mr. Queen. Mr. Diggle. Merlyn." The curt tone Barry's voice took on when he said Tommy's name did not go by unnoticed. Oliver's eyes cut towards Tommy, and he saw that his best friend was scowling at the taller man. Oliver narrowed his eyes slightly. The two knew each other, and that relationship didn't seem amicable. Oliver desperately wanted to question Tommy, but he knew that would cast suspicion on him. Instead he decided to shrug it off, and figure out a way to interrogate his friend later.
"What are you doing in court?"
Barry was fidgeting in a suit jacket and tie, looking wholly uncomfortable. Attractive, Oliver's brain supplied unhelpfully, but he shoved that thought out of his mind. He was having a conversation with the forensic scientist and not thinking about the crowd of people waiting to shove cameras in his face and ask invasive questions. Oliver repressed a shudder at the thought. He was stronger than that, he could handle a crowd. That was what Oliver kept telling himself at any rate. "Oh I'm testifying," Barry replied, and Oliver could have kicked himself. Of course Barry would be called to give testimony at least on occasion - he was the one who examined evidence and drew conclusions based upon it.
"Nothing glamorous or anything. I actually really hate testifying. Everyone else in the precinct hates it when I have to testify too."
Oliver frowned, his expression clearly indicating his confusion, but it was John Diggle that posed the question. "Why? You're clearly an adept scientist and know what you're talking about. I would think no one else would want to testify, so shouldn't they be happy the job is falling on you?"
More than anything Oliver wished he had a camera to capture the bright smile that suddenly spread across Barry's face, clearly receiving confidence from the compliment. "Well sometimes my age causes the jury to doubt my testimony. They think I don't know what I'm talking about, and I kind of have a problem with babbling sometimes," Barry flushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "so most everyone prefers it when one of the older members of the CSI unit testifies. It adds more weight to the case." Barry shrugged, and Oliver was struck by how easily he seemed to take that slight in his stride.
Oliver was familiar enough with the Starling City Police Department, and though Oliver was grateful for the men and women who were willing to protect the city, he was aware that it wasn't necessarily the most hospitable of work environments. From what Oliver could tell there was a certain hierarchy and an unbecoming amount of cattiness among the ranks. Oliver knew well enough that the "lab rats" like Barry were likely considered at the bottom of the heap, despite the importance of their jobs. Barry being as young as he was, and likely one of the newest recruits probably only made things more difficult for him. Oliver was ashamed to admit that if Barry wasn't as...noticeable as he was, Oliver himself would probably be dismissive of the younger man and his job. However he had caught his interest and held it, and was now offering Oliver an out from the crowd he couldn't bring himself to face just yet, even if Barry didn't know it.
"Which case are you testifying for?" Diggle asked in curiosity. "The Nocenti case?"
Oliver's head snapped up suddenly, eyes bright with concern and focus. He pointedly ignored the way his heart started beating faster. Laurel was already working on that case, much to Oliver's chagrin. He didn't want Barry anywhere near it also. Oliver chose to ignore what exactly that thought meant to him. Barry was someone Oliver liked, a potential ally and friend. Oliver would need those after all, and he didn't want both Barry and Laurel in a dangerous situation, especially not when Oliver couldn't be sure he could save both of them.
God this was only the second time he had met this kid.
Thankfully Barry was shaking his head. "Nah I wasn't on that case. That's pretty high profile, so Kelton will probably testify or something. But I think what Laurel is doing is great. Everyone knows that Martin Sommers is scum," the scowl Barry wore looked out of place on his face, "so it's good to see that someone is willing to bring him to justice."
In his periphery vision Oliver saw Tommy rolling his eyes. "Yes well Laurel is going to be declared patron saint of the Glades any day now," Tommy snapped sarcastically, ignoring Oliver's frown in his direction. "I hope you can make it to the canonization. In the meantime, we should really be on our way." It was far too blatant to be considered anything less than a hint, but Oliver wished he could play dumb and pretend it wasn't obvious that Tommy wanted to leave.
Oliver still wasn't ready to face the crowd yet, and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever be ready. If the choice was between making his way through the mass of people all wanting to know his darkest secrets, dredging up memories he didn't want to surface, or talking to the bright, animated young forensic scientist that had already caught his eye, the choice was obvious to everyone but Tommy.
"Hey." Barry's voice was pitched low and gentle, and when Oliver glanced at him, he found that those green eyes were focused intensely on him. "Try breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Deep breaths, but breathe normally. Pick a spot on the wall where you're trying to get to, and focus on that. It might help you block everything out."
Oliver couldn't explain the feeling of relief that flooded through his veins at the advice. Somehow, despite meeting Oliver less than a week ago, and having a total of two conversations with him, Barry understood. He could tell that Oliver was panicking, and not only did he understand, he had offered his help. Feeling the tug on his arm as Tommy urged Oliver to begin making his way to the doors, Oliver gave Barry a silent nod, a gesture of gratitude that he didn't have the words to voice.
Thankfully Barry seemed to understand Oliver's wordless thank you as well as he had the panic that had settled underneath Oliver's skin. He grinned brightly before heading to wherever he was supposed to be. Closing his eyes, Oliver took a deep breath and began pushing through the crowd with new resolve.
“I’m sorry I’m late!” Barry cried, practically by rote as he hurried into the booth across from the lawyer. Laurel pursed her lips, but Barry knew she was hiding a smile rather than expressing irritation. Laurel had experienced Barry’s lack of punctuality firsthand, and had heard plenty about it from her father. Hell, Barry had been fifteen minutes late to their brief, disastrous attempt at a date.
“Always tell Barry Allen to be somewhere thirty minutes before you want him, and maybe he’ll get there on time.” She said teasingly. Barry rolled his eyes at Laurel, tugging his satchel off and glancing around.
“Man it’s crowded today.” He noted casually, trying to ignore the careful gaze focused on him. Laurel was a brilliant lawyer and the daughter of a detective. Whatever she had on her mind, Barry was worried it would put him in an uncomfortable position.
His mind was already flashing with the thousands of possibilities, all ranging from bad to worse. For all Barry knew, Laurel had discovered what exactly he was getting up to at night. Barry wouldn't be surprised if she planned on springing the knowledge that she had found out he was the Streak over lunch. This was the same woman that had staged an intervention over Barry's music obsessions.
"I think we both know that's not why I invited you to lunch today Barry," Laurel pointed out, and Barry groaned softly. Laurel's voice was smooth and honey-like, meaning that whatever it was Barry had done, he was in so much trouble.
She had definitely found out he was the Streak.
"Can't we ever be two normal friends going out for lunch?" He complained, but Laurel just brushed him off, staring him in the eye. Barry swallowed heavily. If he didn't know any better, he would guess that Laurel was somehow reading his mind. At this point, he wouldn't be too surprised. Barry had decided to make the impossible a lifestyle after all.
"We're not normal. Besides, I want to talk to you and it's important." Barry sighed deeply, and took a sip of the water Laurel had already ordered for him and waved her on. "I saw you talking to Oliver Queen at the courthouse."
Almost immediately Barry choked on the large sip he had taken, spluttering foolishly and spraying water all over the table and Laurel. She glared at him without any real heat, but Barry was too busy laughing and trying not to choke to death to pay her any mind.
"Wait a minute. You called me up to have lunch to talk about me having a conversation with Oliver Queen?" Barry was disbelieving, and he watched as a tiny frown creased between Laurel's eyebrows.
"Well what did you think I wanted to talk to you about?" She asked suspiciously, crossing her arms over her chest.
Barry shrugged, trying to remain casual as he scrambled for a cover. "I dunno, me being in trouble with your dad? My One Direction obsession?"
Laurel rolled her eyes to the heavens, but Barry wasn't having any of it. "Oh no way, none of those judgmental eyes, I know for a fact you had a NSYNC poster in your bedroom until you were twenty-three." Laurel scowled, clearly regretting that information slip during a drunken game of truth or dare.
"Well you were wrong. We're not here to talk about your shitty taste in music, we're talking about your shitty taste in men."
At that Barry really did protest. "What? My taste in - c'mon Laurel, we talked for like two minutes! We've had two conversations, I'm missing the problem here." He peered at Laurel carefully. "Are you jealous?" Barry ignored the way the question made his stomach flip unpleasantly, and focused on Laurel's response.
She blushed, but shook her head fervently. "No. I am absolutely done with Oliver Queen. That ship sailed and sank. Literally." Barry snorted; one thing he would always appreciate was Laurel's razor sharp wit. "But I am worried. About you."
Barry didn't bother trying to hide his sigh, but Laurel wasn't putting up with it. "No Barry, I'm serious. You're not the only one who knows secrets here, I know you've had a crush on Oliver forever." Barry blushed and hushed her, glancing around the restaurant while Laurel rolled her eyes. It didn't appear that anyone had overheard, but really, did she have to scream it out to the entire establishment?
Never mind that it was actually true.
"Oliver Queen is bad news. I know how disappointing it can be to meet your heroes in real life, and you've had enough disappointment to last you a lifetime Barry. I just don't want you getting hurt."
"Laurel," Barry began, "I appreciate you looking out for me, really I do. But you're making a mountain out of a molehill here. I mean, sure the guy is crazy hot, but he's literally a celebrity crush. I've spoken to him twice, and that time in the courthouse was hardly anything. I was just an avoidance tactic for him. The first time we were chaperoned by your dad and Detective Hilton." He grinned at Laurel. "Besides, you know me. Friends with benefits, and one-night stands aren't my style."
Unfortunately that statement didn't seem to set Laurel at ease. "No, your style is to fall hard and fast for someone and stay in love and pining for them for years." She pointed out, causing Barry to wince at the harsh truth. Laurel wasn't unnecessarily cruel with him, but she was brutally honest. It was part of what made them such good friends, to the surprise of everyone who paid them any mind in the precinct. "I just don't want to see you falling for Oliver."
Barry sighed and shook his head. "Laurel, I'm not going to argue with you, but I think you're turning this into something it's not. I mean I don't even know if Oliver Queen is into men."
Laurel shrugged. "He's experimented before, I know that. And he certainly seemed into you at the courthouse."
Barry gaped for a moment, before shaking his head. "Laur, that's not your business to tell me. Even if Oliver told you that, you can't go around telling people stuff like that, it's not right." Laurel looked chastised, and Barry shot her a wry grin. "Besides, you're trying to convince me away from him? That doesn't exactly help, you know that right?"
It was Laurel's turn to sigh and shake her head. "I'm just worried about you Barry," she said softly. "I want you to be happy, more than anything, but you're just now getting over Iris. I'm just scared you might transfer your feelings for her and project them onto Oliver because you think he's unattainable."
Barry had to fight the surge of annoyance at that comment, but he wasn't completely successful at keeping the bitterness out of his voice when he spoke again. "So you think I'm interested in Oliver Queen because he's another person that would never be interested in me. Thanks Laurel, love you too."
The lawyer frowned at him, reaching for his hand. "Bear, you know that's not what I meant. I think Oliver is going to be very interested in you, and that's the problem. I just don't want you to fall for him, because he's not Iris, Barry. He's not stupid, even though he does a good job at convincing the world otherwise. He'll notice if you're interested in him, and he'll use you and then leave you."
"And you got all of this from seeing one conversation?" Barry asked sarcastically, still having trouble shaking off the anger and hurt from Laurel's comments.
She met his gaze seriously and shook her head.
"No. I got all of that from seeing the way you looked at him, and the way he looked back at you Barry."
Although Oliver hadn't really doubted it before, there was now no question in his mind regarding the existence of the Streak. He had seen it with his own two eyes, and it left Oliver with more questions than answers. The Streak was undeniably human, but somehow seeing it didn't make comprehending any easier for Oliver. Seeing the Streak hadn't helped Oliver formulate a plan - it had only interfered with the tentative ideas he had previously been mulling over.
The idea of following the Streak to see what he got up to was obviously out. Oliver doubted any other human alive could move that fast - even with something like the Mirakuru. It only left Oliver wondering how the Streak managed it. Needing to clear his head, Oliver had decided to take Thea's advice, and sought out Laurel.
The combined forces of Laurel and ice cream managed to successfully divert Oliver's attention away from the Streak, at least until he made his way into the kitchen for a glass of water and spotted her tablet lying on the table, open to a blog page about the Streak. Oliver sighed and returned to the living room with a frown.
"So what do you make of this whole Streak thing?" His tone was casual, but Laurel had always been able to see right through his masks - all except the one he wore at night when avenging his city. "I come back and find out that suddenly our city has a superhero."
Laurel frowned, clearly taking her time to construct her answer, making Oliver's stomach sink. She had given the subject plenty of thought; too much thought.
"I think he's a good thing. He helps Starling City, he helps people in the Glades. Civilian death and property destruction is highly minimized in crimes connected to a Streak appearance, which obviously sets him apart from the Batman." Oliver inclined his head - he couldn't disagree that Gotham City's vigilante certainly had a cavalier attitude toward the taxpayers' public property. "I don't know where he came from, but I believe in him, and I think he's what the city needs. Him and the new kid on the block, the Hood."
Oliver bit back a wince; he hadn't wanted the conversation to turn toward the Hood. It was one thing to discuss the Streak with Laurel, to gently probe her for information and opinions. That was easy enough to disguise as curiosity borne from five years spent on a deserted island. Talking about the Hood with his ex-girlfriend who he still cared for deeply - the only woman who had ever been able to see the real Oliver Queen - when he was, in fact the vigilante in question, was another matter entirely.
Thankfully Laurel changed the subject on her own.
"So I saw you talking to Barry today. What was that about?" Oliver had to rein in his sudden burning curiosity. Laurel knew Barry. How did she know Barry? Did she know why there was animosity between Barry and Tommy? How did the two of them meet? Why was this the first Oliver was hearing about Laurel and Barry? Were Laurel and Barry LaurelandBarry?
All of the questions were highly inappropriate, and Oliver didn't even want to bother untangling the feelings of confusion and jealousy that rose at the thought of the last one. Instead he quirked an eyebrow up and glanced at Laurel. "Nothing really. The crowd was just a little overwhelming and I spotted a familiar face. I met him the day the Hood saved me and Tommy. What about you, how do you know Barry?"
Laurel snorted and shook her head, amusement clear in her eyes. "He ran into me when I was stopping by the precinct to visit my dad. Literally, ran straight into me. Everyone was laughing and I was furious - he got coffee all over my shirt - but he was just stammering and blushing and so damn polite and embarrassed. He asked me out on accident, and I couldn't help but say yes." Oliver's stomach plummeted - God what was wrong with him? "The date was a disaster, but he's become a good friend of mine since then."
Oliver couldn't have hidden the wide grin that spread across his face if he had tried. Laurel and Barry weren't dating then. He still wasn't sure what to make of the elation currently dancing in his system. Despite their admittedly terrible attempts at hiding it, Oliver knew Laurel and Tommy were sleeping together, so why should he be so happy to find out that she and Barry were not seeing each other?
Oliver Queen knew what love was - he had been in love with Laurel for the past five years. Longer, though it had taken a shipwreck to prove that to him. He knew he wasn't in love with Barry Allen, especially not after two meetings. Love at first sight simply did not exist, not for Oliver Queen. However he was self-aware enough to know Barry stirred feelings beyond simple attraction in him. There was something so pure and good about him, that Oliver couldn't help be drawn to that. Barry awakened an innocent curiosity in Oliver, he intrigued the older man. Oliver wanted to know more about Barry, not for the purpose of getting him in his bed, but simply getting to know him.
For the first time in over five years, probably even longer, Oliver craved someone's friendship for nothing other than wanting to be Barry's friend. It was a strange and jarring feeling, completely at odds with the new life Oliver had resigned himself to.
Laurel frowned at him and cleared her throat, eyes narrowed, and Oliver realized he had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he had clearly failed some sort of test of Laurel's.
"Do not hurt him Oliver Queen. I'm not an idiot, I know when you're interested in him, and your eyes were practically heart emojis at the courthouse."
Oliver frowned in genuine confusion. "Emojis?" Laurel rolled her eyes, and Oliver decided he didn't want to know. He could always ask Thea later.
"Laurel, I'm not going to hurt him." She scoffed, and Oliver sighed. "I mean it Laurel. I'm not interested in him like that." Another scoff, one that dug at Oliver this time. "Laurel. I just want to be his friend. I don't exactly have a lot of those anymore, and being on the island made me reexamine my ideas of friendship. There's just something....something good about Barry. I can't really explain it."
Laurel frowned at Oliver for a few more minutes, before softening her gaze slightly and sighing. "I believe you. I know what you mean. Barry's a good man." Oliver nodded, and she smiled softly at him. "So are you Ollie. Maybe you are a little bit damaged, but you are a good person. I've always believed that."
Suddenly uncomfortable, Oliver forced a smile, and grabbed the pint of ice cream, taking another bite and shifting the conversation to his mother's plans for Queen Consolidated, and how exactly her son was supposed to fit into the grand scheme.
"Bear? Barry?"
Eddie's concerned voice startled Barry out of his thoughts, and he looked up in confusion, straight into the worried eyes of the detective. It took him another second to realize that Eddie had his hand on Barry's shoulder, and appeared to have been trying to get his attention for some time now. Cursing internally, Barry shifted, dropping his leg that had been propped up on his left thigh to the floor.
"Sorry Eddie, I wasn't listening. Do you need the prints for the Abercrombie case?"
"No that's not it. Well I mean, yes, I do need those, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. Are you okay?" Eddie lowered his voice and glanced around. "Did something happen last night? You sound off?"
Barry sighed, and turned away from Eddie, heading across his lab to grab the results his friend needed. "Plenty happened last night. and I wasn't there for any of it."
Eddie frowned, and glanced at his phone. "Your sister's blog is saying that the Streak rescued eight people from a burning building and caught a murderer."
Barry scoffed, a self-deprecating noise, and he crossed his arms over his chest, praying that Eddie didn't recognize the defensive gesture for what it was. "First of all, she's not my sister. And no one cares about that. All anyone can talk about is what the vigilante did last night with Sommers."
Eddie's frown deepened, and he became disapproving. "Bear, are you seriously upset that some whackjob with a bow and arrow is getting more attention than you? That's not like you at all, so what's this about?"
A part of Barry wanted to curse his friend for being so damn observant, but he couldn't. It was just what made Eddie a great detective, and an even better friend. Barry was still having to adjust to having friends who were willing to turn over every rock and pry his emotions out of him, to make sure he was alright. Of course Iris had always been that kind of person, but Barry had plenty of lonely years, another commonality he shared with Eddie.
"Laurel and Oliver Queen were attacked last night." Barry said, swallowing heavily and shaking his head. "That's the only other thing anyone in the precinct is talking about today. They're okay, but...they're my friends Eddie. You - you know what having friends means to me, for the first time in my life I don't feel so alone. I've been happy, and Laurel has a lot to do with that, just like you. And...I know it's stupid, but I feel like Oliver and I could be friends too."
Barry was rambling and he knew it, but Eddie was listening patiently, knowing how important it was for the scientist to say this out loud. Barry's chest was heaving, but he continued, determined to get to his actual point.
"Last night they were in trouble and I wasn't there to help them. What point is there in saving people if I can't even save the people I care about? Saving some strangers in the Glades is easy, but I can't even help my friends when it counts?"
As soon as Barry saw the look on Eddie's face, he wanted to spin on his heel and run the other direction. The detective wore a heartbroken expression, clearly upset on Barry's behalf.
"Bear, you can't really think that. You're right, I don know how important Laurel is to you, but we both know how important justice, and the Glades, and protecting the little guy is to her. That's what you're doing every night. You may be the fastest person on the planet, but even you can't be in multiple places at once. You didn't know Laurel and Oliver were in danger, but Barry you're not responsible for everything that happens in this city."
Barry ran a hand through his hair, trying to process Eddie's words, using every bit of self control not to dismiss them instantly. "I could have done more," he argued stubbornly, and Eddie sighed.
"What else could you have done Bear? They're grown adults - they're older than you. I'm not saying you're a kid, don't give me that look. But Laurel is the daughter of a detective, she's grown up around the precinct her entire life. Oliver's got a bodyguard, and he seems like he can hold his own. They're both okay now, so why are you beating yourself up for what you couldn't do?"
He sighed heavily. How was Barry supposed to explain to Eddie the feelings of dread and fear he was practically choking on, when he could barely comprehend it himself?
Being the Streak was difficult, and Barry would never say otherwise. It was rewarding, but hard. It was dangerous of course, but what weighed on him heavier than anything were the people he couldn’t save. There were too many of them. A man he couldn’t get to in time, a teenager walking home that he wasn’t fast enough to reach before someone else snatched them out of thin air. The faces of those he wasn’t enough to save flashed in front of his eyes every night. How could he cope if one day it was the faces of one of his friends that haunted him?
"But what about next time? What if it were you, or Cisco, or Cait?"
"What if it were Iris?" Eddie argued, refusing to back down. "What if Joe gets in a car accident, or your dad gets beaten up in prison?" Barry reeled back in horror, as if struck down physically by Eddie's words. "Barry life just happens. Being fast doesn't stop that, it's just part of being human. There are accidents, and tragedies, and maybe you can stop some of them, but you can't stop all of them. That's not your job. None of this is your job, but you decided to save people, to be a hero. The city is grateful for that, but you can't crucify yourself for every single crime you can't stop." Eddie sighed, and moved towards Barry, clasping his hand on Barry's shoulder once again.
The forensic assistant looked away in embarrassment, determined not to let Eddie see the tears gathering in his eyes, and Eddie allowed him to keep his head turned.
"You're a hero Barry. I've always known that, and I'm always going to be here to remind you of that. But being a hero doesn't always mean saving the girl or guy. Being a hero means doing the right thing, even when it's hard or dangerous. That's what you do every night. I know what it's like, to be angry at myself for not doing more, even if everything turns out alright in the end. But you can't change the past Barry. You can't go back and do more, you can only go forward."
Barry took a deep breath and nodded. Eddie had always given sound advice, and he had given Barry plenty to think about. He wiped at his eyes, and gave Eddie a small smile. "Thanks Eddie. I promise I'll try not to dwell on it too much."
The blonde grinned. "Good. Now c'mon, turn on your television. McKenna just texted me that Oliver Queen is making a fool of himself at some groundbreaking."